The Prompt: Describe heaven
Trying to describe heaven is a very heavy undertaking. That, coupled with the fact that no one really knows, leads me to take a less serious – yet heartfelt – approach. And so, I’ve modified the prompt.
The new prompt: Describe your personal heaven
Thinking about my personal heaven is not a new concept to me. Maybe it’s not new territory to anybody and you all have already given the topic a ponder. To me, it’s a bit like visualizing my happy place, but with some other-worldly nuances added in.
The first time I remember describing my personal heaven, I was reading The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold. The main character (14 year-old Susie Salmon) describes her heaven as a place from which she observes the world of the living, including her family, her friends, and her murderer. Her heaven adapts to her wishes, including a dog park and an ice cream parlor. She had me at “dog park”.
It’s been twenty plus years since I read the book. We were headed up north for family vacation and I was reading in the car. (Yes, I’m one of those lucky people that can read in a moving car.) I paused in my reading to talk to MOH about my personal heaven. From the back seat my nine-year-old son piped up.
“There are lots of snakes in my heaven, especially King Cobras and poisonous ones. But they only use their venom if they are hurt.
There is a giant pool, a giant hot tub, and a jacuzzi. My house has more than 9,000 rooms and every room has a fireplace. There would be five bathrooms.”
My heaven is still very similar to how I described it then. There are acres and acres of green grass, small ponds with fountains, and streams with stepping stones. There are dozens of willow trees great for climbing or for shade. It is sunny in my heaven, but never hot. The landscape is reminiscent of a golf course where my dad took me when I was a kid.
There are SO MANY dogs in my heaven. All the kinds – beagles, bassets, dachshunds, Rottweilers, golden retrievers, labs, corgis, sheepdogs, Afghan hounds, and all of the mutts. They lounge in the sun, chase each other about, splash through the water, and rest in the shade. When they tire of their play, they seek me out for a butt scratching or an ear rubbing. They nuzzle their noses into my hair and snuffle in my ears.
In my heaven my house has a large veranda porch with a swing to while away eternity. There is a library with ladders on rollers and every book I look for is there. They aren’t sorted by bookstore categories like mystery and science fiction, but rather by the kind of mood I’m in. The shelf labeled Books that Will Make You Laugh will really make me laugh. They are funny to me, not necessarily anyone else.
I can visit my dad in his heaven. He is sorting through piles of stamps, tobacco tins, and other old oddities. This is not my heaven, but I go there to visit him. Popsi, our family dog, is there with him – she keeps him company. They go for walks and she warms his chair. They share their heaven with each other.
Sometimes my mom is there, but she is also with her sisters, spending time unmeasured and limitless. They talk endlessly, skipping from topic to topic, interrupting, erupting into laughter, and just being with each other. I visit, but I don’t join in, choosing to sit next to my mom on the couch and soak in the comfort of the familiar banter.
The funny thing is, I’d forgotten that Susie Salmon’s heaven was full of dogs until I revisited her description while contemplating this blog. I don’t consider this an appropriation of her idea, rather a confirmation that others feel the same.
It is no coincidence that my heaven is full of dogs. Dogs are mentioned in more than 50 of my blog posts. It’s also interesting (at least to me) that although I didn’t set out intending to feature a dog park in a piece of fiction that I’m working on, the main character who has suffered trauma is drawn to a dog park. I didn’t plan it, it just worked out that way.
I’m a little lost on how to end this post, so maybe I’ll share some words from some other dog lovers that have contemplated a shared afterlife.
- “The dog is a gentleman; I hope to go to his heaven not man’s.” — Mark Twain
- “Dogs’ lives are too short. Their only fault, really.” — Agnes Sligh Turnbull
- “Death ends a life, not a relationship.” — Mitch Albom
- “If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die, I want to go where they went.” — Will Rogers
Once Upon a Willow 